I’d tried calling and texting Brody all afternoon, but he never responded. As soon as my interview wrapped, I headed straight back to the hotel.
“Hey. What are you doing?” Brody was sitting in a chair, the room quiet, a glass full of clear liquid in his hand.
“Proving everyone right.” He gulped back the remainder of his drink.
I sat on the edge of the bed across from him. “I’m sorry. I heard. I tried to reach you, but your phone must be off.”
“It is. Permanently.” He eyed the phone on the table next to him. The screen was smashed. I didn’t need to ask how it happened.
“Is it appealable?”
“I’m not going to appeal it.”
“Why? Especially if Colin only got a slap on the wrist?”
“Because it will just drag me back into a bad place. I don’t need that shit.”
“I don’t understand.”
“After I got drafted into the NFL, I started to move on with my life. Until Willow reappeared again. I lost focus. Crashed my car speeding one night heading to find her when she went on a binge. I started missing practice and workouts, couldn’t concentrate on the game. My performance took a nosedive, and Coach benched me to teach me a lesson. I eventually lost my spot on the team by getting sucked into Willow’s life again.”
“I get it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I do. After Drew died, I couldn’t let go. My grades dropped. I stopped going to classes. Eventually, I took a semester off. Little by little it got easier, but all it took was the slightest memory, and I would be right back there.”
“I figured he was important to you.”
“He was my fiancé. We got engaged right after high school but wanted to wait until after the draft. He was riding a quad one Saturday and hit something. It flipped over, and he broke his neck. Died instantly.”
Brody blew out a long breath and reached for me. “Come here.” I sat on his lap. “You’re pretty fucking incredible, you know that?”
“Is that the liquor talking, or you?”
“You said liquor and all I heard was ‘lick her.’ I have a flight back to New York tonight. But now I have a hard-on and need a taste before I go.”
“You realize you just went from brooding to perverted in under five minutes.”
“Told ya. I’m moving on.” He started to unbutton my blouse.
“What time is your flight?”
“About an hour after I come inside of you twice. Whatever time that is.”
Chapter 18
Brody Even in the offseason, I stuck to my Tuesday schedule for visiting Marlene. The Sunday staff at Broadhollow Manor had never seen me before. I signed in and introduced myself.
“We spoke on the phone a few times this week. I’m Karen. I do weeknights and Sundays. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Easton.”
“Brody, please.”
She nodded. “Brody.”
“How is she today?”
“Still the same. Whatever it was that made her so upset last week seems to have been forgotten. She’s more like her normal self again.”
“You mean like telling a nurse she should wear less lipstick so people concentrate on her figure more and on her face less?”
Karen covered her smiling mouth. “I heard about that one. She’s a hoot.”
“Says the lady who can pull off bright red, shiny lips.”
The nurse blushed.
“Is she in her room?”
“I think she’s still in the activity room. One of our staff was playing checkers with her when I passed by before.”
I was not expecting that staff member to be Grouper. He wasn’t dressed in his usual uniform either. He had on a long-sleeve checkered shirt with a sweater vest over it.
“Well, if it ain’t Mr. Rogers. What are you doing here?” I walked to Marlene and kissed her cheek. “You’re not trying to hit on my woman, are you?”
Grouper waved me off and grumbled something.
“It’s Sunday,” Marlene said. “We play checkers and watch TV. But there’s no football on today.”
“I was in the neighborhood, so thought I’d stop in and check on things.” Grouper tried to play off his visit as casual.
“He turns on my television every week before we play. I don’t really like football, but we play checkers, too, so I don’t say anything.”
“Is that so? The old bastard even comes in on his day off, huh?”
“That’s not nice. He’s not a bastard. He’s just old and moves sort of slow. And a little hard of hearing, too.”
I grinned at Grouper. The only thing I was looking forward to in aging was being able to say whatever the hell was on my mind and getting away with it.
Grouper gave me the evil eye. “It’s quiet in here this Sunday without any games to watch.”
I should have known I was going to hear shit from him about getting suspended. “I’m not happy there’s no game today either.”
“You should be unhappy. Waste of perfectly good talent to not be playing a game today.”
An hour later, I was sitting across from Marlene, and Grouper was looking on as the two of us played checkers. Five minutes into the game, half of her black pieces were kings, and she’d stolen half my reds. She pulled a double jump I didn’t see coming. “What the hell? You’re a checkers shark?”